Me and Henry Down by the FestHaus

Life is getting better steadily. Friday night I decided to move my fridge into the kitchen from the dining room. This involved tearing out a set of cabinets and then finding a water problem under my old fridge. I called Dad over to check out the floor and he helped me put the new fridge in place. I now have filtered water and ice coming from a dispenser on the front of my fridge. Wonders never cease.

Saturday I started losing my voice. This has carried over until about today. Rich and I went to Howl-o-Scream at Busch Gardens and won a large orange rhino (which I have named Henry). I was the envy of every teenaged girl in the park. Henry, Rich and I then rode every ride in the park and were entertained by the Freaky Festhaus dancers (as well as the saucy young girls who apparently decided to join in on the dancing).

That night, Rich helped me move my television into place. It's a tight squeeze but it fits. So now we sit on the sofa and marvel and its magnitude. Charlie's boobs on Ground Force are just so ... larger than life.

The kitten is doing much better. But I must say I'm becoming pretty neurotic about monitoring my cat's food intake and litter box usage. I actually cheered the cat because she pooped this evening. Yeah, I know ... she gave me that same "I don't even know who you are anymore" look too.

The kitten has two banes of her existence right now. She is not allowed outside (to allow my constant vigil over her litter box and general behavior) and she must take medicine twice a day. The latter seems to be the bane of both our existences in that I must perform this cat torture twice a day. I have to wrap her in a blanket so that only her frowny little black head is poking out. And then I must either pry her head open to deliver three quarters of a pill or .4ml of icky white slime. Neither of us are pleased about this. The whole ordeal is pretty intense for kitty and girl alike.

So I have a new television, a stove in place, a fridge in place, a giant orange rhino named Henry, a frowny kitty and a new lease on life. I still sound a bit like Selma Bouvier from the Simpsons, but I hope to be better in the next day or so.